Butterfly in the Snow
by Redonix
Summary: Suzu Mai was not a natural. She wasn't born with beauty or grace, and don't believe she'd be capable of punching someone in the face, and let's not get started on how poor her social skills are. But one thing she is good at is getting back up again to try. So when opportunity beckons, will she step out of her shell and spread her wings, or will she fall prey to an eternal winter?
1. Can You Hear the Silent Cry?

**_Time is slowing while twisting and turning,_**

 ** _And this hope is struggling to find a way._**

 ** _The lines are blurring as I look away_**

 ** _Is it still possible to reach what's far before me?_**

 ** _Am I wishing for something?_**

 ** _I can't remember._**

 ** _There's a strange emptiness when forgetting_**

 ** _Is there a way to make it end?_**

 ** _I think I'm distorting_**

 ** _I must be distorted._**

 ** _Will it come to an end?_**

* * *

 ** _Can you hear the silent cry,_**

 ** _The cry that brings a tear to my eye?_**

 ** _Can you hear the heart speak?_**

 ** _I'm just trying to get by._**

* * *

 ** _These days are growing longer and darker_**

 ** _And hope is growing dimmer and farther._**

 ** _I'm blurring between the lines_**

 ** _Reaching for what lies just beyond my sight._**

 ** _What was I wishing for?_**

 ** _I can't remember._**

 ** _It's so sad that I've forgotten_**

 ** _When will it end?_**

 ** _I think I'm tearing_**

 ** _I must be torn._**

 ** _Can't it all just end?_**

* * *

 ** _Can you hear this silent cry,_**

 ** _The cry that brings a tear to my eye?_**

 ** _Can you hear this heart plead?_**

 ** _I'm just struggling to get by._**

* * *

 ** _These nights are dragging on and on and on_**

 ** _That hope has hidden itself too far away._**

 ** _The blurred lines are taking over me_**

 ** _I'm tired of chasing after what lies beyond my sight._**

 ** _Is there a point to wishing anymore?_**

 ** _I can't remember._**

 ** _There's no use I'm already forgotten anyhow._**

 ** _Is it ever going to end?_**

 ** _I think I'm breaking_**

 ** _I must be broken._**

 ** _Why won't it all just end?_**

* * *

 ** _Can you hear my silent cry,_**

 ** _The cry that brings tears to my eyes?_**

 ** _Can you hear my heart scream?_**

 ** _I'm dying just to get by._**

* * *

 _Redonix Note: Hello, hello, hello! Welcome to the installment of "Butterfly in the Snow"! Just a quick note to let everyone know that this story is also on Wattpad. I'm always gonna update it there first and then update it here afterwards. I'll try and be as consistent as much as possible, but I'm nearing a point in the school season where things are about to delve into chaos. (I'm going to drown in campaigns that want me to be full of school spirit and homework, blargh.)_

 _I also do not really intend to make this an OCxCanon! romance. My main focus is more of a confidence campaign and friendship on this one, so don't expect much of anything out of canon when it comes to that._

 _Feel free to review, etc. –Cheers!_


	2. Vivaldi's Winter

The one thing Yuri remembered most about Mai was how she always clung to him when they were kids. Almost everywhere he went then it seemed like Mai was only a few steps behind, rushing to catch up on shorter legs. She was four years younger than him, so naturally he didn't mind and even treated her like a little sister. Since he was the youngest out of two siblings then it had been nice to take on the role of a big brother. It was cute, then, to have a little duckling following after him.

Mai had been a sweet little girl. Shy, yes, but wholly pure and innocent. She always looked at him with a big, wide caramel-eyed expression, enraptured by whatever he had to say no matter the topic. The two of them had been practically joined at the hip, and they stuck out for each other like real siblings. And it was because of this that it only came to be natural that they both began to love the some of the same things.

For as long as Yuri could remember he had loved to skate. Yuri enjoyed himself when he was on ice; he could think, dance, express himself any way that he liked. When he was on the ice he felt his best. The way the cool air of the rink ran through him, the feel of his body gliding across a smooth surface, and the incredible sensation of being able to _let go_ – it was a freedom unlike any other. This emotion had been enlightening to him, and when he had proposed that Mai try it too, she had eagerly jumped at the chance.

Unfortunately Mai could never stay on her two feet for longer than a lap around the rink, even though she constantly held onto the railing or someone else. Considering that she had always had the strange habit of tripping over air then it had been a miracle that she had even lasted that long, but one thing Yuri admired about Mai was that she was stubborn enough to keep trying again for his sake. But after many failed attempts, which ended in bloody palms and a minor concussion, everyone had agreed that being _on_ the ice rink was not the place for Mai. Despite bad experiences, though, she still loved to go with him and watch when he asked.

As they grew up Mai's interests branched more towards the Musical Arts. Since anything of dealing with physicality was about as existent as her green thumb then it had seemed like a reasonable option for her to take. She chose to learn the piano when she had turned six, and around that time Yuri had made a few more friends through skating. Being as socially inept as he was– sometimes he really worried that the reason for that was his fault –Mai found it hard to talk with his other friends, Yuko and Takeshi, even though they were as nice to her as they were to him.

But that changed one day.

That one day, when Yuko had turned on the tv to watch the Grand Prix, and everything had tilted on its axis.

Yuri had been held captivated by the sight. As young Russian prodigy, Viktor Nikiforov, skated on the ice, he felt something wake within him. His love of skating increased exponentially, and with it the forge of his innermost desires had been ignited. He could see a glimmer in his future, an ideal, a dream. One day he'd be good enough to skate in the Grand Prix. One day he'd compete against Viktor Nikiforov and become something _amazing_. To be recognized by Viktor, to have the chance to skate with him as an equal, that was his ultimate dream.

While this epiphany had made revolutions in his mind, something similar had happened in Mai's. When he had finally come down to earth his little duckling's mind still flew in the clouds. It hadn't been until much, much later though that she had confided in him what had gone on in her mind when she had watched Viktor's performance.

Clouds… Yuri blinked, shifting in his seat. What a strange thing for him to reminisce about the past like this. Perhaps it was because he was going home, finally, after five seemingly long years. Indefinitely he had lost himself to the waves of memory lane when he had looked out the small window of the plane, finding a nostalgic sense of peace in place of his gnawing anxiety. He couldn't really remember the last time he had talked with Mai, though, and wasn't certain what had prodded him in the direction to think about her. But he was glad that he did.

Guilt soon replaced that elated feeling when it dawned on him though that he _hadn't_ talked with her in awhile, the sensation very much similar to what he could only imagine as a nest of hissing snakes coiling angrily inside of him. Yuri curled in on himself ever so slightly to ease the sudden panic. Guess he could add that terrible thing to his continuously growing self-deprecating list of disappointment. When he had left Mai then she had been going through a rough time, and he had promised her that he would write and video chat with her as often as he could. Now that it had become obvious to him that he had failed to keep even that promise then he felt damned. He had been so selfish, only caring about himself and that failure of a competition– he wouldn't be surprised at all if she hated him now.

Yuri's lower lip trembled slightly and he took a deep breath to steady himself. He couldn't get upset in a place like this, and he definitely wasn't risking crying in the bathroom again, not after what happened with Plisetsky. There was no point in making himself a bigger burden than he already was. Besides, it wasn't like crying was going to do him any good. He had already decided to let things go. Being a champion worthy enough to skate with a legend like Viktor, while still one of his biggest dreams, was simply too unrealistic for a failure like himself. It had taken him far too long to realize that he didn't belong on the ice, just like Mai.

Easing back into his sea, Yuri turned his head and looked out the window once again, exhausted. The clouds were satisfyingly large today. They looked puffy and comfortable enough to sleep on, in all honesty. He could feel his eyes drooping at the provoking thought of sleep. The tension in his limbs didn't disappear, but it settled to a comfortable weight, even for this state of weariness.

He would definitely make sure to stop by Mai's when he got home. It was the least he could do, even if he was going to be really late. Yuri just hoped that Mai would forgive him for being gone so long, before drifting into a light sleep.

 **{ ++ }**

The stage lights were blinding and insufferably hot. A single, heavy bead of sweat ran down her back, causing her already sodden black dress to cling to her in an uncomfortable way. Her legs trembled beneath her, threatening to collapse in on themselves like a house of cards, and it wasn't because of how long she had been standing. Her heart climbed up the charts of speed at an uneven tempo; her breathing threatened to spiral out of control. Everything about her was unnaturally stiff, and if she even dared to loosen up so much as an inch, she was afraid she'd fall apart at the seams right then and there.

" _Ladies and Gentlemen, continuing our soloist routine is Suzu Mai, who will now be performing the first movement of Winter from Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons'._ "

Mai bowed once again to the audience, every movement a robotic action that almost hurt her to make. She raised the bow to the strings of her violin and lightly tested the instrument to see if the tuning needed to be adjusted. As it were it was still perfect from the last rendition. Mai turned to the conductor and nodded her head once, before returning to face the darkened, faceless audience. Behind her the orchestra began to play the quick intro, the cellos rumbling a warning of the coming season. Not long after she and the other violinists began to integrate themselves into the deep warning with choppy, high pitched steps.

The Winter began to slowly prowl as the pace wound down, a creeping predator that was mercilessly cunning. It stalked, an ominous threat. When it would strike could never be guessed, but when it did–!

The orchestra behind her ceased playing and she worked the strings with quick and meticulous strikes before slowing down momentarily, increasing the intensity of Winter's attack like a sudden gust of wind. Once more she repeated the attack before settling into a determined hunt, slinking around the wary prey. The beat lulled again in the blink of an eye before changing yet again. As much as Winter could be a ruthless hunter, it could also be teasing and playful, like the one maiden that got away.

Winter was dancing, twirling around flirtatiously. Wherever Winter touched, frost accumulated and formed dazzling patterns. Icicles became crystal chandeliers, streams and ponds shining ballroom floors, and the flurries of snow swept around by Winter's feet were dresses of fine silk, twirling around and around to the symphony. It was a party of enchantment and entrapment; as the music gradually took on a deeper tone it reminded everyone that Winter was still an untamed entity.

Mai had been, up until that point, focused on a particular spot of wood at her feet, avoiding any invisible eye contact with a member of the audience. She couldn't stop her eyes from wandering as she felt herself relaxing, her mind being tricked into thinking that she was merely back in the practice hall at school, an encouragement to look up. But when her gaze was met with the cavernous black her heart stopped. The blood rushed in her ears, drowning the music away except for what was right at her ear. Her hand slipped a little and threw off the tempo. In her panic she sped up a fraction more than what the rest of the orchestra was playing at. She could hear how off beat she was, _everyone_ had to have heard how off beat she was; the light faintly reflecting in a few glasses she could see from people sitting in the front rows were like accusatory judges, condemning her for the slip up.

 _Calm down Mai_ , she mentally talked herself down. _Focus on a single spot and just remember the story. Remember your analogy! Start with Winter, with where you're at right now._

She picked the left hand corner of the stage to stare at, counting out the beat to help her mind slow down.

 _The reason why Winter is shown to have two sides is because the season is a woman. Both dangerous and tantalizingly sweet, Winter makes the perfect display of unbridled power that should both be feared and enjoyed._

The blood was no longer ringing in her ears and she was finally back on tempo.

 _Just as Spring is a child– the ray of hope that can melt even Winter's cold away and start life anew._

Her whole body was buzzing with a mixture of energy. She wasn't sure what was what, whether some of it came from the ecstasy of playing Vivaldi's piece, or if some of it was sheer oxygen deprivation. Whatever it was it was all that was keeping her feet rooted to the floor.

 _And Summer is a man. Bright, sunny, but also temperamental with storms that could wreck lives depending on where a person lives. Summer is just as dangerous a man as Winter is a woman._

The piece was nearing the end, she could count out how many notes she had left now.

 _And finally Autumn, the elderly person. Autumn is the time when life is laid to rest, a peaceful intervention before Winter takes control of the reigns._

She hit the final notes with a slight flourish before lowering her instrument and bowing. The audience's clapping thundered in her ears, sounding exactly the same as the fresh blood that flowed to her head with the bow. Mai straightened herself and stiffly turned to walk off the stage. Each step she took seemed to bring her closer and closer to collapsing. With the remaining willpower she had left Mai forced herself to at least clear the satin curtains before giving in, tripping over her own feet.

Someone caught her before she could meet the ground though. For a brief moment she was almost bitter of that person, thinking that ground would have been nice to lay on; cool and refreshing. A reprieve from the uncontrolled heat of the stage lights. But then that train of thought disappeared as she busied herself trying not to be sick.

"You did great, Mai! That was a flawless performance!" Mai faintly heard someone congratulate her through the endless spinning of her mind. She almost frowned at the person, ready to argue, but she managed to keep her thoughts to herself by pressing her mouth into a thin line instead. Whoever had caught her helped her to a seat and left, promising to return with water.

As she sat there in wait, the dizziness neither abating nor increasing, countless people came up to her and congratulated her performance.

 _Flawless_.

 _Perfect._

 _Excellent._

 _Impeccable._

Each praise grated on her heart, sounding more as an insult to her ears than appreciation for a talent was she not nearly proficient enough in. Though they may not have heard what she had, Mai knew that her performance was not the most outstanding one to ever grace that stage. None of her performances ever have been. And even though everyone told her she kept getting better and better each time, she couldn't help but disagree with them.

The only way her performance would _ever_ be the best, ever be noticeable enough to earn _that man's_ attention, would be when she could stand on the stage without an ounce of fear holding her back.

But one thing Mai knew all too well, when it came to herself, was that a day like that would never come.

 **{ ++ }**

Yuri walked back to his home, dejected and a little bit more than a little terrified. He had wanted to go and say hello to Mai as soon as he possibly could after his reunion at home, but the universe seemed to be strongly against him on the matter. Yuri had never really liked Mai's aunt, as she had always been an imposing woman, but ever since Mai had moved in with her then she had become scarier than a drill sergeant handing out grades. But with the way she had chased him off one would almost think he had been a missionary from some creepy religious cult that had been staking out her home for months. The thought alone was enough to make him shudder from more than just the cold.

As he slowly walked home he began to chew the inside of his cheek, contemplating the many aspects of his return. Many people, Mai's aunt excluded, had seemed overjoyed at his return. Often times he'd been praised as a _hero,_ of all things. For the life of him he couldn't understand why. A failure like him didn't deserve such praise. He had messed up so much…

And then there was the matter of not being able to come into contact with Mai. Could she really be mad at him? Was it possible that she'd never want to see him again after he basically abandoned her? Mai's aunt had never really said any of those things, but he couldn't help but get the overall feeling that they were implied. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if Mai hated him. Sure, the world didn't revolve around her, but losing a friend was… Especially when he had so few as it was…

Yuri shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the doubt. It still plagued him, but temporarily took a backseat in the darkest corners of his mind that would come to visit him later.

He looked around, then, realizing that he wasn't heading in the direction of his house at all. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It seemed that while he was distracted with his internal problems his feet had developed a mind of their own and taken the route to a familiar and warm, despite its literal contradicting cool climate, place.

Before him was the place of his childhood, fond memories bundled up in hours of practice and fun, Ice Castle Hasetsu. Whenever he was troubled and simply wanted a place to be alone and think, he came here. Even if he was a failure on ice, it was the one place he couldn't seem to rid himself of after all.

Quickly he jogged up the steps, each step notifying him of just how numb his feet had become. Perhaps he'd spend a little time warming up before skating, maybe even talk with Yuko if she was there…

He opened the doors and slid inside, lightly bouncing from one foot to the other. The little bell tolled, announcing his arrival. Yuri spotted Yuko right away. She was behind the counter, putting away a pair of skates. It seemed, though, that he had come at the wrong time. It looked like she was getting ready to close up.

"I'm sorry, but we're closed." she said, stretching to place the skates on a higher shelf. Yuri stood there awkwardly, stuttering an apology. He saw her eyes widen and she turned to look at him. For a fraction of a second they stared at each, soaking in appearances that neither have seen for so many years.

"H-Hi Yuko." Yuri fidgeted in place, suddenly at a loss for words.

Yuko sprung to life, then, leaping forward to lean dramatically over the counter. "Hey what's with that? You can call me Yu-chan ya know!"

"Eh heh heh, really?"

 _Wow, she's gotten a bit cuter since I last saw her_ , he thought somewhat bashfully. His face warmed at the thought, but with a little bit of pride he noted how it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been when they were kids.

A twinkle entered Yuko's eyes. "Hey, if you wanna skate you can. You just want some time to think, yeah?"

"How did you guess?"

She grinned at him. "Because I know you Yuri." She leaned forward even more and held her hand up as if she were telling a secret, even looking around some before giving her grin a more devilish flare. "And I think you'll actually be fairly surprised when you go out to the rink so hurry up okay?"

Yuko backed away and retrieved a pair of skates for him. He stared at her questioningly as he took the skates, wonder just what she meant by surprise. Yuri wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing to be receiving something shocking in his current state. It couldn't possibly be good for his health… The grin that remained on Yuko's face wasn't entirely convincing of safety, either.

He sighed with a slight shake of his head before entering the locker room to trade footwear and remove his heavy winter coat.

 **{ ++ }**

Vivaldi's winter softly rang through the ice hall, creating an ethereal echo. Mai deeply inhaled the cool and felt the rush of calm run through her body. Her grip on the railing hadn't loosened any, but she didn't particularly trust herself to remain upright on the ice without support at the moment. It was impossible to trust her own body any time after a concert.

She couldn't believe it. They had rewarded her for her failure. Not first place, but among the higher ranks and honorable mentions. Mai was convinced that they had gotten the results wrong. Several times she had either played too fast or too slow because of her nerves, several times she had almost run off the track trying to start playing a different piece. It had also been a miracle that she had managed to keep her composure throughout the entire performance.

Mai's free hand clenched tightly at her side and she moved forward slowly. Soon she was going at a moderate pace, allowing the cold to sting her face like a slap of punishment. It was what she would most likely receive later once her aunt, her strict instructor, learned of the results. She never really could live up to those high expectations, no matter how often or hard she practiced to reach them, but she could never deviate from that path, either. Sometimes Mai was convinced that her aunt hated her. But then, she hated herself so it wouldn't be unusual for others to feel the same.

Winter pranced around her as a freezing temptress, pulling her thoughts to move away from safety, to let go of the wall. She could just glide towards the center and strand herself there. Maybe she'd fall on her way. It would give her motive to not get up for a while.

Her hand fell away from the wall and she drifted off course.

"Mai!" A loud call broke Winter's trance and she awoke as if from sleep. With no way to stop herself she slid into a turn, effectively ensuring that she tripped over her feet and fell onto the ice before catching sight of the person who had said her name. Her hands and knees broke most of the fall, a mixture of a fortunate and unfortunate habit, but her nose still scraped painfully against the ice. The person called out again, more panicked than before, and she looked up.

And suddenly not even Vivaldi's music could be heard as the world stilled. Her eyes widened slowly, soaking in the image of someone she had spent the last five years viewing through a screen on opposite sides of the world. For a brief moment she considered this being a trick of the mind; sometimes she did hallucinate things after she fell. But that was only if she hit her head, and hard enough at that. No, what she was seeing wasn't a lucid dream. Everything was still very much real, the person standing on the other side of the railing was very much real.

Tears, brought to life from overwhelming relief and happiness, filled her eyes.

"Yuri?"


	3. When Music Dances

"Yuri!"

Mai started to scramble up, the effort negated by her own haste and clumsiness combined. She couldn't believe it– Yuri was finally back! A single tear spilled over the lip of her eye. It trailed down her cheek, warming her frozen skin in a refreshing way before quickly freezing in the frigid air. A few more tears slipped out and followed to join the ring leader underneath her chin.

"Mai hold on! I'll come to you." Yuri held up his hand as he hurried over to the break in the railing. She stopped her attempts to get up and instead sat on the cold ice in mild defeat. Somehow she always managed to find herself in a position like this; stranded in the middle of the rink, waiting for Yuri to come rescue her. Though in the recent years it had either been Yuko or Takeshi that had to come and save her from her own stupidity. On rare occasions, unlike what she had experienced barely a few moments ago, she liked to delude herself into thinking that if she branched away from the wall then she'd be alright. The results never really varied though.

Yuri stepped onto the ice and glided flawlessly to her. He grabbed her outstretched hand, pulling her up with almost little to no effort on his part. After securing her with both hands on her arms so that she wouldn't wobble around and fall again, everything went quiet. Mai had to look up in order to see Yuri eye to eye, finding out that he had grown a lot more than she had while he had been away. He stood a head and a half taller than her now. She almost felt like a dwarf, standing this close to him.

Still, it felt like old times.

Gently, Mai wiped away the few streaks on her frozen cheeks, being careful as she went around her nose so as not to aggravate the tender skin. Yuri's warm, dark eyes glowed like syrup in soft lighting, moist with barely held back tears of sheer joy. Beneath the radiating happiness, though, she caught sight of the familiar anxiousness as he silently searched over her, soaking everything in. Worry formed lines on his forehead, and little creases in his cheeks. It was then that Mai noticed Yuri's pudge. She knew that being a figure skater meant that he constantly had to keep himself in tip-top shape, but she also knew that Yuri was also prone to stress eating when something depressed or bummed him out. Since his loss in the Grand Prix then she understood very well what could have gotten him down enough to make him let himself go this much.

Mai shuffled closer and reached up to wrap her grey sweatered arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Unable to stop herself, a few more tears slipped out. She buried her face in the crook of his neck. Yuri was warm, and smelled of home comforts– katsudon, his favorite. Though she smelled this flavor often enough, nothing quite compared to the nostalgia she received when it came from her best friend. With him here now it almost seemed to make her worries melt away. Mai felt safe with him.

Hesitantly Yuri wrapped his arms around her, settling back into a familiar groove as he lightly rested his cheek on top of her head.

"I missed you," she mumbled, her hot breath coming back to hit her in the face. Yuri's grip suddenly tightened. Before she had the chance to say anything about it, he relaxed.

"I missed you too, _Ahiru_."

She giggled at the nickname. Ah, it had been awhile since she had heard him call her that. Who knew that she would have missed something as simple as that so much? Especially such a cheesy nickname like _duckling_. But it had never bothered her before, and it made her feel so happy to hear Yuri call her that now.

They broke apart, Yuri keeping a protective hand on her arm as she slid back, wiping her eyes again. Mai smile at the young man before her, and he returned it with a watery one of his own magnified by ten.

 **{ ++ }**

"I'm really sorry that I didn't keep in contact with you." Yuri rubbed the back of his head in shame, the wretched feeling burning more than what he could bear, but it was what he felt he deserved. Mai stood on the other side of the divider, which he had safely escorted her to after their reunion. He, on the other hand, remained on the ice.

Yuri studied Mai intently, not only searching for any signs of hurt or feelings of betrayal from her, but also observing the changes he had missed since he had last seen her. The result led him to realize that it had indeed been a _long_ time.

"It's fine." Mai tucked a lock of dark and wavy hair behind her small ear. It was shorter now. Last he had seen then it had been a little closer to her shoulders, if not just above them. Now it was closer to her jawline, just underneath it.

She angled herself so she faced him some more revealing how waxy her skin had become, as if she were sick. Purplish-grey circles ringed under her eyes, which made their caramel color appear darker and more haggard. She looked exhausted, but even so she mustered a small and understanding smile. Mai reached out with one hand and lightly rested it on his arm.

"You were busy preparing for the Grand Prix, so it was okay. Don't worry about it, please?"

He couldn't understand how she could let this go so easily. What he'd done wasn't okay. There was no excuse, Grand Prix or not, that he could use to get out of this. She shouldn't have been waving it off so simply, as if… as if it didn't really affect her.

Yuri averted his eyes, ducking his head. "Still, I could have– no, I _should_ have –made some time to call you."

Mai remained silent.

Unable to stand that kind of pressure, Yuri desperately tried to think of something else to talk about, cursing himself for putting _both_ of them in such an awkward situation. "S-so how are things going right now? Are you still playing at the university?"

"It's… okay," Mai said slowly. He tensed a little, unsure if this 'okay' was a good or bad thing. "I had a performance earlier today."

 _Ah, that explains it_.

Perking up ever so slightly in an attempt to regain some of the former optimism of their reunion, he straightens out and faces her again, trying his best to appear supported and interested. "Oh yeah? How did it go?"

She fidgeted. First looking at him, then to her free hand, where she had started scratching the side of her thumb with the nail of her index finger, then moving onto boat-at-sea rocking. Her mouth worked over time to form words without sound, and for a moment it seemed like she forgot how to breath. Yuri quickly grabbed her hand, and they locked eyes. Mai was anchored again.

"I-I barely made it into third place," she whispered. Her grip turned vise-like and in response so did his. He blinked, suddenly worried. Had she always been so anxious after competitions?

"But that's–," Yuri began to protest, but she cut him off before he could get ahead of himself.

"Good, I know. But it's not good _enough._ "

Underneath it all he could sense her reluctance to admit any of this to him; how her lowered gaze made her appear almost guilty of something. He couldn't understand that though. She shouldn't have any reason for feeling guilty when she had done nothing wrong. The only one who should feel guilty for failing at anything, not that third place was really a failure, was him. But he could understand why admitting this had been difficult in the first place. Ever since Mai had begun learning how to play instruments her teacher had been her aunt. Suzu Aiya was a strict woman with high expectations, too high in his opinion. Her perfectionism was ingrained into Mai since a young age and it wasn't something that coped well with her social anxiety.

"B-but at least you did better in your competition than I did in mine."

Instantly he knew he had said the wrong thing. Mai looked away and it clicked. Even though she had done well, she felt bad about it because she was a perfectionist, and even worse because she was feeling down about it when he hadn't done well at all in his own competition.

Music filled the ever widening chasm of silence between them. He faintly recalled the entrancing melody as something of Vivaldi's creation. Yuri wasn't entirely well versed in the names of classical music unless he was using them in a routine, but he knew certain things when he heard them. Vivaldi just so happened to be one of Mai's favorite composers so it gave him a mild edge in identifying the composer. He looked around for the device that was playing the music, spotting Mai's little purple phone not that far away.

Yuri squeezed Mai's hand and pulled away, sliding the short distance to the phone.

"Is it alright if I use this?" he asked, holding it up. Mai nodded and he turned off her music, searching for his own. When he had found it he slid back and placed the phone in Mai's tiny hands. He took off his glasses and blinked rapidly as the world around him became blurry, and he handed those to Mai as well. After a minute he managed to regain some definable shape of the rink, but not much of anything else. Even his little duckling was just a blur of colors. Falling into a routine, Yuri glided backwards towards the center of the rink, nodding to Mai.

And, in a single heartbeat, the music began to play.

 **{ ++ }**

She was put under a spell the moment the music began playing, Yuri in what looked like the perfect position; eyes closed, legs gently crossed one over the other, and completely relaxed. Composed. The young man looked up towards the ceiling with the look of a devout saint on his face. He raised his arm and in a single, delicate move twirled around. Yuri glided forward, stretching his hand out as if to reach for someone invisible to the naked eye. Mai recognized the controlled, lithe poise– she had seen one other man perform this same routine.

"No way!" Mai nearly jumped out of her skin as Yuko quietly materialized at her side, her girls eagerly bouncing up and down to watch the spectacle on the ice. Putting a hand on her heart, Mai took a deep breath and faced the rink again.

"He's performing Viktor's routine," she responded, almost in reverent awe.

Yuri made a wide turn and coiled in on himself, springing into the air and spinning. She watched with wide eyes and bated breath as he touched down and sent a spray of glistening ice as he spun again. Despite having grown up with figure skating nuts her whole life, Mai was hardly ever able to place the correct name on individual jumps, save for when she paid strict attention to whatever the commentator was saying. Regardless of her lack of knowledge, every movement Yuri made was flawless in her eyes.

Mai crouched, standing on her knees and tucking her arms close to her body, pressing her cold lips against the sweatered backs of her hands. His step sequence was captivating, smooth even. There was such a stark contrast between the Yuri before her now and the Yuri she had seen on t.v. not that long ago. This man was…

 _Comfortable._

 _Loose._

 _Confident._

 _Free._

One of the things that Mai greatly admired about the man known as Viktor Nikiforov, something that differed from Yuri's adorations, was that the man had a way of making the music _his_. His very presence, _personality_ , was enough to cause anything to gravitate towards him. When he was on the ice he danced with his whole heart and soul, all other thoughts and cares left behind, out of the rink. In every way possible he _owned_ the music, nearly as much as the music owned him. The way he allowed for the music to flow through him, guide his each step, it was almost magical. Mai felt like time would slow down for him, if only to better capture his elegance and grace as he danced across the ice.

For as long as she had known him, had watched him practice time and time again, Mai was almost absolutely certain that this was the first time Yuri was opening himself up to let the music dance for him. It was mesmerizing to watch.

Yuri drew closer to them, smiling a small, sweetly enchanted smile before pulling away again. Her heart pounded in sync with the rise and fall of the music as she watched, feeling the passion ripple off of her friend like a pebble thrown into a pond. She grew increasingly warm in spite of the cold, the warmest spot being her chest. He rounded the rink and propelled himself into the air once, twice, _three times_. Mai gasped softly and leaned in even closer to observe his spin, sensing that he was nearing the end.

He started at the ground before working his way up, kicking himself through the air to end in a quick paced ballerina twirl. Yuri stopped as the music reached its peak, bowing. Mai sprung up, knocking her knees painfully against the concrete divider. Wincing, but ignoring it, she began to clap and cheer with Yuko.

"Yuri that was so freaking awesome!" Yu-chan squealed in delight, pounding against the divider. "I thought you were going to be depressed, but this is amazing!"

Yuri wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily. A light smile graced his features and he looked down, closing his eyes.

"I was, actually. But being depressed just gets… old after awhile. I lost my love of skating and I realized that even if I don't think I belong on the ice, it's the only place where I really, truly belong. I thought that copying Viktor like we did in the old days would help."

Mai nodded quietly. She understood, in a way. After every single competition she had, no matter the results, she would get depressed about it. It made her want to hide and give up. But in the end she was always drawn back to the music, because it always seemed to be the only place she belonged. And yet it was the only place she could really go back to simply because she didn't know or have the experience to do anything else. In a way, for the both of them, they had become trapped in their own professions of choice.

"Wow Yuri, you really have gotten fat!"

Startled, she looked down at the little girls, remembering that they were there.

"L-Lutz!" she reprimanded, glancing anxiously between them and Yuri. Yuri blanched inwards a little as the girls continued to fire off questions like paparazzi digging their next big scoop. Yuko waved them all off, squealing to the high heavens.

"Sorry! Sorry! They're such a bunch of groupies," Yuko apologized.

"Yeah, they're your biggest fans." Mai nearly fainted when Takeshi appeared out of nowhere. Her face flushed in embarrassment at how easy it was to scare herself. She glanced around quickly, but nobody seemed to be paying attention to her, focused mostly on the returned figure skating hero of Kyushu. Relaxing, she continued to mind her own space, giggling softly to herself.

Yes, it certainly was nice to get a taste of the good old days.

 **{ ++ }**

 _After the competition, Russia:_

Viktor lounged about on his couch, Makkachin happily resting against his stomach. Bored out of his mind, with absolutely _no clue_ where to start with fresh ideas for his next run in the Grand Prix, he idly surfed through the internet on his phone.

He wasn't as satisfied as he should have felt. Perhaps it was because his idea bank had run dry and he was hitting a drought for the season. Or maybe it was because his performance were starting to feel a little lackluster. The audience was hard to surprise anymore. It almost seemed like they could predict whatever he would do next before he even thought about doing it. That irritated Viktor, a little. Some of the most fun he could get out of a competition like the Grand Prix was through shock factor. If he couldn't even deliver that then could he really do aside from move and look pretty?

A notification from Youtube popped up at the top of his screen. Normally he would have ignored it, but something in particular caught his eye, and curiosity begged him to go along.

 **[Katsuki Yuri] Tried to Skate Viktor's FS Program [Stay Close to Me]**

He remembered Yuri. The young man had some true potential, but little confidence in himself it seemed. When Viktor had seen him before the finals he had looked like he had seen the lowest of the low. The way he walked, talked with his trainer, and outright avoided Viktor– his spirit and resolve had been obliterated.

And yet… somewhere, somehow, Yuri had picked himself up and took to the ice again.

As he watched the younger figure skater the gears in his brain whirred to life. Viktor saw a blinding glimmer of potential in the young man on the screen. The only thing that constantly seemed to hold him back was himself. What Yuri needed was the right kind of motivation. What Viktor saw was the right kind of inspiration.

It looked like Viktor was going to be making an insightful trip to Japan soon. _Very_ soon.


	4. Surprise! It's Viktor!

It was freezing when she woke up. Not that it was anything new, her room was practically temperature confused. The heater became the AC unit and the AC unit became the heater. But it was only in her room, so Mai wouldn't bother with trying to change it, or complain about it to her aunt. Aiya would probably get upset with her for it anyway.

Mai wrapped her fluffy lilac comforter tightly around herself, shivering as she scooted herself into a sitting position against the wall. A low yawn escaped her and she leaned closer to the window. Light, bright and white, peeked through the folds of dark curtains. She shifted and opened it just a little, blinking at the intensity. Once she had gotten used to it then she leaned in closer to peer outside.

Her breath fogged the glass, but not before she could glimpse the change that had occurred to the outside world overnight.

Even though it was April there was snow. The weather hadn't been letting go of the winter season and she had wondered when it would snow again because of it. It certainly explained the intensity of the chill in her room.

The second the fog cleared from the window she was back on it again, enchanted by the scenery. Frost heavily coated the sill of her window, trailing down to reveal tiny, crystalline icicles. The ground below was covered by a fine layer of downy soft snow, undisturbed by everything but the wind. Mai was certain that it went deeper than it appeared, but she had no intention of going out to see for herself anytime soon. Standing tall above the ground was the old cherry blossom tree, the aged wooden swing looking sadder than ever as a gentle breeze pushed it. Snow clung to individual branches like snug caps. It was peaceful, and Mai wished she had some hot tea in her hands while Tchaikovsky played quietly in the background.

Perhaps that was a little too dramatic. After all, that'd be like pretending to be in some sort of music video. But she wouldn't just be expected to sit around the entire time, much like she would prefer. No, with music came action. And with action usually came effort, skill, and grace―none of which she possessed. Add the lack of courage and wit to the list and she was just your average small fry, a runt. And people only took pity on runts.

A loud gurgle echoed around her silent room. Her stomach coiled and growled and in response she softly groaned. It was bad enough to be cold, worse to be hungry, but entirely unbearable to be around her aunt at anytime of the morning. Especially after last night's round of pressure.

After returning home later than usual due to spending time with Yuri since his return, which she most certainly didn't regret, her aunt had thrown a fit. Well, perhaps fit wasn't the proper way to describe it. The way Aiya showed her disapproval of anything felt more like an ominous dark cloud that could suffocate any atmosphere. Even if she wasn't such a scaredy-cat Mai couldn't imagine standing up to her aunt because of it. From her thinned lips, to her brickwall posture, right down to such cold black eyes―Aiya didn't need words to induce a sense of failure in someone. But she would use them anyways just to rub salt in the wound.

It was bad enough that she had gotten third place, but to come home late because she was loitering about at the ice rink with the returned failure was downright unacceptable.

Her aunt had said many things about her performance, most of which she took quietly, since she agreed with her aunt completely, but insulting Yuri was what had hurt the most. In Mai's eyes Yuri had never once been a failure. In almost every way possible he was her idol, nearly just as much as the legendary Viktor Nikiforov was. Since they were kids he had worked hard to put his heart and soul into skating, and it had taken him places. His career had led him to the other side of the world! Even if he had placed last in the Grand Prix, even if his score had been low, how did that make him a failure? The fact that he still skated because he loved it so much spoke volumes to her of what a _success_ Yuri was. She could never amount to something like that.

Mai was not a natural.

Mai was not gifted.

Mai was not special, beautiful, graceful, or anything really.

Mai could never hope to even come close to standing on the same level as her best friend. And she had known as such since she was a young child.

But her dreams were such a tricky thing to kill, despite her own shortcomings.

Her stomach growled again, reminding her that she still needed to eat, even if it meant facing her aunt again so soon. Slowly Mai got out of bed, taking the blanket with her. The cold floor made her want to jump right back on the bed the moment she set her foot down. She never liked wearing socks to bed, so the shock was instant and alarming enough that she almost tripped herself in surprise. Quickly she retrieved a pair of socks from the nearby dresser and scuttled out of her room.

The house was silent. No matter how much she strained her ears Mai couldn't detect any indication that her aunt was downstairs, or even upstairs for that matter. She prayed fervently that the hush was an indication Aiya had left the house for something. Whether it was rainy, windy, or snowy, if Aiya had something to do then she would go out and do it. If she truly did leave the house to run an errand then the snow outside wouldn't stop her one bit. Even though her aunt wasn't the nicest person, Mai admired her strength and perseverance greatly.

She tiptoed down the stairs, peeking cautiously over the railing for any indication of movement. No shadows were cast along bare walls that weren't from inanimate objects, no radio softly played the news, not even the sound of something being cooked on the stove was present. Mai quietly hopped down the remaining steps. Everything would have been fine if she hadn't tripped on her blanket and sent herself face first into the wall with a loud crash.

The front door opened.

Panic flooded her, overriding the pain that swelled through her face―the worst coming from her poor squashed nose. Mai scrambled away from the wall, her feet twisting around ankles and blanket alike as she went careening back in the direction she came from. The base of her skull connected with the wooden stair and the ceiling became littered with stars.

Through the harsh ringing of her ears and the intense smarting she caught her aunt's sigh. She gripped the back of her head, whimpering, and sat up. The room swam. The air sang. Everything hurt and she was short on breath.

"If you have to be taken to the hospital then it'll affect your schedule. There won't be much time to practice for your next competition." She heard Aiya shuffle away, leaving her to nurse her wounds on her own.

Mai bit down on her response. Her next "competition" wasn't even a competition, it was just a talent show at the university. And it wasn't like going to the hospital would mess up her schedule so bad that she couldn't practice. The performance date was set for a week and a half later, plenty of time to divide between recuperation and practice. Besides, she wasn't even going to perform a new piece―not that she wanted to be performing at all so soon after her last concert―she knew what her aunt had picked by heart.

She tucked the blanket under her arms and shakily got up, bracing against the wall for support, and turned to go back upstairs. There was no way she was going to get anything to eat right now. Her appetite was shoved into a corner and forgotten about at this point. Gradually Mai managed to drag herself up the stairs and into her room where she landed on her nest-like bed and burrowed beneath the covers.

After a while, when her head had stopped pounding, Mai peeked out of her cozy shelter. Tiredly, her eyes roamed over the countless items in her room. Mostly, though, she found comfort in the only things that seemed to actually reflect who she was as a person. Unlike the rest of the house, everything could be found on the walls of her room. Posters of famous concerts and composers, a couple of tv shows and books, a few of Viktor through the years (hers weren't nearly as numerous as Yuri's though), and deeply cherished photographs that her parents had taken―every single one of them. Her favorite was a double portrait that had been taken in a meadow nearby; it was of both of her parents, who had taken pictures of each other when they both thought the other was capturing images of something else. It was almost like the perfect accident.

The photo, while beautiful and sentimental, was also a painful reminder. Five and a half years later and it was still one of the biggest thorns in her heart. She'd never see those wonderful smiling faces ever again.

Mai closed her eyes and rolled to her other side, reaching for her phone. The device vibrated in her hand as it turned on and she waited with rising boredom for it to finish waking up. It was such a slow and old thing, but she had been lucky enough to get it in the first place, so it kept her from complaining too much. A little green light blinked at the top. She slid the menu bar down to see that she'd missed two calls from Yuri, and had received several texts from him as well. All of them read "urgent" and "backup assistance required" in all caps and included several exclamation points.

In an instant Mai had thrown the multitude of covers off herself and was pulling clothes out of her dresser and putting them onto her body without so much as even a second thought. Her head swam, but she paid it no heed as she shrugged on her thick coat, pulled a beanie over her head, and shoved her feet into snow treading boots. Mai was out of her room seconds after and frantically texting Yuri to find out what was going on. Before she knew it she was down the stairs and out the door, not even checking to see if her aunt was on the lookout.

 **{ ++ }**

Viktor liked to think he was a genius. On the ice he knew just how to capture the audience's attention. With a simple piece of footwork or with a perfectly executed jump―he was a master at getting people to be absorbed in what he did. As a result he had many, many dedicated fans who willingly gave him attention and affection wrapped in a pretty bow. He, of course, was always nice and polite to these people, but that didn't really mean he understood them. It wasn't like he was a mind reader, not that it stopped him from pretending he was knowledgeable of things like that.

Like this very moment, for instance. He pretended that sharing quarters would be the perfect solution to get to know Yuri better. He pretended to not pick up on the other man's flustered confusion. He pretended that acting innocent would get him somewhere. But on the other side of that thick, pretentious wall, Viktor Nikiforov was utterly confused. The person on the other side of this door was not any of the three people he had met at the Banquet, the Grand Prix Finals, or even downstairs not all that long ago. No, when it came to people's motives behind actions Viktor was completely clueless.

"Yuri!" He rapped on the wooden door again, growing more and more disheartened by the second. Things weren't going like he'd planned. Their encounter had been full of mixed signals, and Yuri's reception to the news of him staying here to be his coach had been one of absolute disbelief mixed with a star crossed daydream. Viktor had no idea how he was going to get the other man to come to his senses, if it were even possible at this point.

Footsteps thudded up the stairs, causing Viktor to look over his shoulder.

"Yu-ur-i!" A mildly high pitched voice called from the stairwell; a girl, it seemed. Whoever it was sounded winded. "I ran– all the way– here– in the snow. What's so urgent– that–"

She rounded the corner and came to a dead halt. Her chest heaved erratically as she breathed through her already open mouth, which dropped a little more at the sight of him. Viktor turned around and raised his hand in greeting, smiling pleasantly.

"Hello!" Beside him Makkachin gave a happy bark as well.

The girl had disappeared around the corner before he could even blink. He knew that she hadn't gone far though, he could still hear her panting. Curiosity begged him to go over and talk to her. Logic told him that she might be able to help get Yuri out of his room.

In a few quick strides Viktor made it to the staircase, Makkachin hot on his heels. He peeked around the corner, seeing the girl pressed against the wall with both hands clasped over each other and pressed tightly against her chest. She was a plain looking girl, with short dark hair that was mostly covered by a rosy beanie, an even shorter height, and rather worn out looking clothes. Her cheeks were flushed; whether it was from the cold or something else he couldn't really say. When she opened her eyes he caught a hint of brown.

Makkachin squeezed past his legs and began sniffing eagerly at the girl's feet. She squeaked, looking down, and tried to pull herself closer towards the wall. Viktor couldn't help but grin a little. Despite her overall averageness she was rather adorable.

Viktor gave a sharp whistle and both the girl's and Makkachin's head snapped up towards him. "Makkachin, leave her alone," he chided goodnaturedly.

The poodle yipped and heeled. The girl's eyes were intensely trained on him when he returned his attention to her. He locked his gaze with her and took the moment to see what he could find. She was absolutely frozen in place. Viktor was certain that she wouldn't run away if he tried to talk to her again.

"I'm sure you already know this, but I'm Viktor Nikiforov," he began, feeling almost a little arrogant for assuming that she'd recognize him. Though judging by her actions then she clearly did know who he was. "What's your name?"

"M-my name?" She stuttered, sounding half out of it. "M-M-Mai."

His brows cinched together and he cocked his head to the side. Was she too nervous to say her name? He understood that sometimes his presence could have a scary effect on some people, simply because he was famous, but he didn't want her to feel frightened.

"I-It's Mai! My name is Mai!" She all but shouted it, ducking her head and growing redder by the second. Mai fidgeted with her hands, practically wringing the life out of her poor thumb. Viktor took a step back to give her a little space. An easy smile slid across his face.

"Nice to meet you, Mai." Viktor held out his hand and she stared at it, dumbfounded. Over the course of his career he'd met many fans that reacted similar to how Mai was behaving now. He had learned that the best course of action when dealing with these kinds of fans was to be patient. Slowly she released her own death grip on her hands and reached out to take his hand. Her small grip was too tight, but he remained calm and relaxed.

Viktor glanced down the hall to Yuri's door, which remained firmly shut, and then back at Mai. The two were definitely familiar with each other somehow. It was possible that she could have been his little sister, or maybe even a neighborhood friend, but he wasn't certain. A small part of him wondered if she could possibly be his girlfriend. He quickly shut that thought down. Best not to get ahead of himself. Jumping to conclusions wouldn't get him anywhere.

His hand slipped out of hers and he pointed to Yuri's room. "You were wanting to see Yuri, right? He's in there, but he won't come out."

Mai softly mumbled an apology that he quickly waved off.

"No need to apologize, it's my fault anyways. He's probably in shock right now since I told him I'd take over being his coach."

No response.

Stepping aside, Viktor gestured for her to pass. Her eyes darted between him and the door so fast he worried that she'd give herself a headache. Hesitantly Mai edged past him before attempting (and failing) to walk with a hint of composure over to Yuri's door. He quickly followed after her. She glanced back at him once before raising her hand to knock. Her knuckles had barely touched the wood when the door slid open wide enough for a hand to fly out and snatch Mai's wrist, dragging her into the bedroom and once again leaving Viktor on the wrong side of the door.

 **{ ++ }**

Ever since that one day in her childhood when Yuko had turned the tv on to watch the Grand Prix Mai had been a fan of the prodigy Viktor Nikiforov. When she was a child, before middle school, she had had a small crush on the young skater. It was just a silly and fleeting emotion for a man she'd never meet beyond the screen of a television, though. When she'd grown up some then she recognized the feelings as more admiration than romantic, and had since moved past it. She adored his looks like most women and men alike, and was fascinated as well as utterly spellbound by his figure on the ice. But what Mai had come to love most about Viktor was his ability to become one with the music.

Her head had been in the clouds when she had watched that performance, weaving up a magnificently impossible dream. As a young child learning to create and play music she'd dreamed of meeting Viktor and asking him to skate to a song she had created just for him in the Grand Prix. Of course that dream relied heavily on the fact that she would actually one day meet the legendary ice skater, but it had been her pillar all these years in facing hardships unlike any other. Whenever she wanted to give up, whenever someone told her to quit, she remembered her wish and kept working to reach it.

But it was always something meant to be an impossibility.

Until now that was.

Mai fell on top of Yuri, who groaned at the sudden weight. She scrambled up and away, allowing him to sit up before launching into a hushed assault.

"Why didn't you tell me that _Viktor Nikiforov_ was here?!"

Yuri rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks turning pink. He matched her quick speech with a hushed whisper of his own. "You wouldn't have showed up if you knew he was here!"

She opened her mouth to combat him before shutting it. He was absolutely right. If she had known that Viktor were here, _the most revered idol of the century,_ she wouldn't have come to Yuri's aid. Seeing him just barely had already been so overwhelming. Mai could have sworn her heart had stopped beating from the sudden anxiety of meeting someone she respected so deeply. She couldn't even tell if it was beating right now.

"W-why is he _here_?" Of all the places Mai had imagined meeting her idol, this place didn't even make it onto the list.

"Viktor says he's going to be _my_ coach. Can you believe it? Because I'm still trying to figure out if I heard correctly."

Viktor had said the same thing about being his coach, but it was still so hard to believe.

"What? Where did he come up with an idea like that?"

"I have no clue! But he's already shipped so much stuff here and he's taking over the spare bedroom that suggests he's actually here to stay. Mai what do I do?!"

Mai cupped her hands to her face and pressed down hard, stretching her cheeks back as she went. Never in a million years would she have dreamed up a scenario quite like this. Never in another million years would she have expected it to actually _happen_. Things were so far out of her league that she didn't even know where to begin.

"Maybe… Maybe you should go out there and be a good host?" Mai said slowly, unsurely. Yuri blinked and cocked his head to the side in confusion. "I-I mean, since he's staying here and everything out of consideration for you th-then you should be out there making sure everything's okay. And… I don't know… Talk to him?"

It was the best that she could come up with while helplessly shrugging her shoulders over and over again. Yuri seemed to take it into consideration. He swallowed hard before standing up, offering a hand to help her. She took it, comforted by the warm strength the single action presented her with. With a determined nod they both turned to the door and braced themselves for something they were both unprepared for.

 **{ ++ }**

After observing the duo closely upon emergence from Yuri's room Viktor could safely deduce that their relationship was purely platonic. He found it highly amusing when Yuri introduced Mai as his childhood friend with an air of fluster surrounding him―though it was far more obvious on the young girl, her face a bright red beacon as she fidgeted with the hem of her pink shirt. From there he'd been escorted back downstairs to enjoy a meal and conversation.

So now, sitting across from two, Viktor enjoyed his first taste of Katsudon while showering praises on both the cook and Yuri, who had suggested it to him as his favorite food. Mai remained quiet but observant, back to throttling her thumb. He figured that maybe talking about something would get her mind off strangling her own finger.

"So Mai," She suddenly sat up straight, acting as guilty as someone caught sleeping during class. "Since you've been friends with Yuri since childhood I was wondering if that also meant you were a skater?"

Mai grabbed the back of her head, wincing slightly, and shook her head. "N-no. I barely manage to s-stay on my own two feet most of the time, s-so I can't do much more than little kids learning how to skate."

A.k.a, she required assistance of some sort to remain upright. He nodded, trying to think of something else that would make the situation seem less awkward than it already was. Thankfully Yuri was on top of it.

"Mai may not be great in sports, but she's a really good musician." He gave his friend a reassuring pat on the back as her face kept getting redder.

Viktor leaned his head on his hand. "Oh really? What instruments do you play?"

"P-piano and violin," she stammered.

He hummed in approval. Both instruments were fine on their own, but he appreciated them together even more. They made such beautiful music for him to skate to.

"I'd love to hear you play sometime, then." By now Mai was so red that he dearly hoped she wouldn't get any redder. If she did then she might end up making herself pass out.

A door slammed open near the front of the building and a woman began shouting in Japanese. He couldn't gather much of what she was saying except that whatever it was sent shivers running through Yuri and Mai―the latter of whom had nearly jumped out of her skin once the atmosphere had suddenly grown loud. A few seconds later the source of all the noise appeared, yelling Yuri's name.

She stopped dead when she caught sight of him.

"So the rumors were true? Yuri, why didn't you call me?!" The surprise only lasted for a moment before she began to bombard the young man.

"M-Minako, p-pleased don't ever do that again." Mai slumped in her seat, clutching at her heart.

The long haired woman, Minako, paused in her ranting to look at Mai. "Oh, sorry Mai. Didn't see you there."

"Didn't see―nevermind. It's fine," she sighed.

Viktor felt bad for her, but there wasn't much of anything he could do. Instead he returned his attention to the woman and smiled at her.

"And who are you?"

It was amusing how she instantly went from hyperactive to a loose professional in the span of a second. She introduced herself as Minako, Yuri's friend and part time ballet instructor also from his childhood. She was also a really big fan of his.

As Minako happily began to settle down at the table, carrying on a mostly one sided conversation, a quiet jingle began to play. His gaze flickered to Mai as she pulled out a cute little purple phone and balked at the screen. She turned away from the group to answer it. The conversation barely lasted even thirty seconds before she was hanging up and turning around again.

"I-I'm sorry, but my aunt just called and told me that I needed to go." Mai bowed before standing up. "Sorry again."

"Huh? So soon? Oh well, you can't help it when family calls you home." Viktor waved the apology away. "But you can make it up by joining me and Yuri on a tour of Hasetsu tomorrow!"

Yuri jumped to his aid, nodding his head eagerly. Viktor completely missed the desperate look that flashed in his eyes. "Yeah! Please join us tomorrow!"

Mai stammered an incoherent string of words before finally managing to spit out her answer. "I'll see if I can get out of practice tomorrow."

"Ura! Then we'll wait for you! Bye-bye~." He waved and Mai bowed again. Before he knew it, once again, she had disappeared. Viktor turned to Yuri, who watched Mai leave, and pointed his chopsticks at him.

"In the meantime you'll be working to bring down your weight, little piggy." Yuri's head whipped back so fast it was practically a miracle he didn't send it flying right off his shoulders. "I won't coach you until then."

He could see the gears working overtime in Yuri's mind, but the man nodded anyways.

"Right!"

Settling down and leaning on his hand again, Viktor smiled to himself. So many new interesting things and people, in a new place―things were certain to remain lively around here for a little while. He was looking forward to experiencing it all.

* * *

 _((Redonix Note: I had totally planned to update earlier in the week but homework has been insane because of the upcoming X-Mas break TT^TT RIP._ _Anyway, I thought that I should mention this now, before we get any further in the story. BITS is a story that's set in a parallel timeline next to canon, so I'll be following along with/touching on events that happened in canon as best I can while leaving room for individual things to help develop Mai's character. So as a forewarning I'm going to be changing up TIME FRAMES in which all these things occur and either extend or shorten them. Thanks a bunch for your time! See you next chapter!))_


	5. Surreal

Her fingers glided across the smooth keys and soft notes lilted through the air. She could almost see it―a tiny butterfly traveling along the wave of notes. It rose high on blue wings crafted from the finest, most fragilest of gems. Steadily it climbed, higher and higher, fighting against the rising winter storm. Frost ringed the edges of those wings and bore it down. Slowly it succumbed to the weight of impossibility.

And then the butterfly became lost in the snow.

Mai stopped playing and sighed heavily through her nose, frowning. No matter how much she played and changed the music it always had the same ending. Despair triumphing over the hope of a delicate creature.

It wasn't something befitting the likes of Viktor Nikiforov to skate to, let alone music that belonged on the ice. What suited him most was a soft rise to a sunny hope, a sudden plunge into murky and unknown depths, and then the end―a mighty, powerful comeback that would rock the world to its very core. Something shocking. Surprises were Viktor's favorite ploy on the ice. It was what he was best at, after all. And yet all Mai seemed capable of producing was an everlasting gloom.

With another frustrated sigh Mai pulled away from the piano and turned her attention to the abandoned violin, untouched and still in its case since the moment she had arrived at the university. She really should have been practicing for the talent show. Even if she knew the piece well enough that it was entirely possible to play it in her sleep, she could never really be too careful. But she also didn't want to leave Yuri and Viktor waiting forever. Especially not after that look Yuri had given her.

It wasn't that he was afraid of being left alone with Viktor, not in the least. But when your idol of many years shows up out of the blue saying he'll be your coach then it's a little hard to process on your own all at once. Mai understood the feeling perfectly, being in nearly the same situation as him. And the fact that Viktor had even asked for her to join them on a tour of Hasetsu was, well, _mind blowing_. She wasn't that significant yet to be deserving of his attention.

Her gaze shifted away from the violin over towards the class bulletin board. Reminders and sign up sheets of all kinds were pinned in place for the student population's viewing, and centered perfectly in the middle was the largest poster spelling her doom. Just looking at it, being reminded of the upcoming performance, set her shaking. She wasn't nearly as good at being on stage as everyone thought she was. Her nerves would always make themselves known one way or another, and she would fail each and every time to reach the bar of standards set up by her aunt, herself, and seemingly everyone else too. And it simply kept climbing without anything to limit it. But it seemed that she had become too skilled in concealing how much the pressure actually weighed her down.

"Mai, are you finished practicing for the day? You made it seem like you had plans earlier."

She nearly fell off the bench when her instructor broke the contemplative silence. Instinctively curling in on herself to hide the trembling, Mai looked over her shoulder towards the doors of the music room. Yamada-sensei, a polite middle aged woman with a face framed by ebony curls, braced herself against the door frame, peeking in. Her soft blue eyes searched Mai carefully, though what they were trying to find was uncertain. Regardless, it made Mai fidget in her seat uncomfortably.

"Um, I don't know really…," she mumbled indecisively. Should she keep practicing a little longer to avoid her aunt's discipline, or should she stop for the day and hurry to her friend's aid? They did say that they would wait for her, but…

"Why don't you call it a day?" She looked up again, realizing that she had broken eye contact, and was met with her teacher's reassuring smile. "I won't tell your aunt anything either. Go and have some fun. You can't spend all your days in here you know."

Mai stood up and bowed. "Th-thank you, Yamada-sensei."

Yamada-sensei lightly chuckled before waving and turning to leave her alone once again. Mai sighed into the silence and hung her head. She could tell that she was worrying her teacher again. Mentioning how she couldn't spend all her days in the music hall just went to show how little Mai interacted with others, but then again Mai never really had much of a social life to begin with.

Quietly, she turned around and gathered her sheet music in her arms. Before meeting up with Yuri and Viktor then she'd have to drop everything off at―no Aiya might be home, and she was expecting Mai to be at the university almost all day. But, glancing at the violin case once again, bringing _that_ along on tour, plus her backpack… Maybe it really _would_ be better for her to try and take a rain check on the outing. Of course that would mean having to attend something else with the two skaters, since a tour of the same place could only be taken so many times within a short time frame.

"Oh bother," she muttered to herself. "There you go again, over thinking the little details."

Grabbing the purple backpack that sat underneath the bench, Mai opened it and shoved the stack of papers inside. In another few minutes she had cleaned up her work space completely, her coat and other winter protection necessities in place, and violin case ready to go in her hands. Taking one last look at the music room, Mai silently bid it farewell and took her leave.

 **{ ++ }**

Yuri glanced between his phone and the giant set of stairs, waiting for Mai to appear. She had texted him about ten minutes ago asking where he and Viktor were at, followed by a short reply that she'd be there soon a couple minutes after he'd responded. It had amazed him that she had managed to get out practice so early―or at all for that matter. Aiya wouldn't have allowed for something like this. As one of the strictest instructors Yuri had ever encountered, Aiya was one that would demand for day long practices all seven days a week, all twelve months of the year. _But_ , Yuri reflected, _since Mai also practices at the university then she probably has nicer instructors. Or maybe class was let out for the day?_

He looked up at the sky, bright and clear―such an interesting contrast from the day before. Even a great deal of the snow had disappeared. The air still contained traces of winter's nip, as not everything had disappeared, but it actually felt a little bit like spring today. Albeit he had also been running around nonstop since this morning, no thanks to Viktor's insistence on beginning training right away.

Discreetly as possible, Yuri turned his head to stare at his idol. Viktor's head turned in every direction to capture the scenery, enraptured by the foreign beauty. His silver hair constantly fell over eyes that were lit with wonder and excitement. Viktor had remarkable eyes―a rich sea-blue that went from light to dark depending on how the light caught in them, with long lashes that curled above those rippling oceans like dark clouds. Yuri's breath caught in his throat as he continued to stare, bewitched by this new addition to the landscape.

And then those eyes were turned on him, trapping him. He felt the tips of his ears, his cheeks, grow warmer. Embarrassed that he'd been caught staring, Yuri quickly turned away and sought refuge by checking his phone again.

"Did Mai say something?" He jumped as Viktor appeared over his shoulder, observing his phone with him.

"N-no, not yet!" Growing more flustered by the second, Yuri stood up and put a little distance between himself and the Russian. It had only been approximately twenty-four hours since Viktor had arrived to stay in Japan and yet he'd already proven himself to be one of the most touchy-feely guys Yuri had ever met. It was awkward for someone like him who wasn't really used to such straightforward intimacy from people he barely knew. Perhaps this was just a common thing in Russia?

The thought made him a little uncomfortable, considering that he'd also received some rather violent personal space invasion from another Russian.

Viktor sighed, sounding almost a little discouraged. The Russian leaned back on his hands and stared at the sky for a moment before pinning Yuri down with those eyes again.

"The way you keep looking at your phone is almost like a boyfriend waiting for his _lapochka_ to text back~." The Russian smiled as if he had just discovered Yuri's secret, pointing at him teasingly. Flames tickled him beneath his skin and suddenly not even the lingering chill could cool Yuri off as he hurried to deny Viktor's claim.

"Ahiru and I just friends! I-if anything she's like a little sister to me―," Yuri stopped short as he realized what he'd just called Mai. It wasn't that the nickname was private or anything, everyone that knew them knew his pet name for her, but saying it in front of Viktor felt like he was only cancelling out his efforts.

Viktor cocked his head to the side curiously. "Ahiru? I thought her name was Mai?"

"It is. Ahiru is just a nickname I have for her," he mumbled, fidgeting. "Ever since we were kids she's followed me around like a little duck, so I call her Ahiru sometimes."

Viktor placed his hand thoughtfully on his chin and thought about it. After a minute he brought his fist down into the palm of his other hand. "Aha! I get it! So Mai is an _utenok_ , and you are her Mother Goose."

"Uh… Sure?"

It was a strange way to put it, but it seemed to make sense to Viktor, so Yuri let it go.

His phone buzzed. Yuri looked at it, still feeling embarrassed that Viktor had called him out for checking it so often. Thankfully the message was from Mai.

 **[ HelP ME ]**

Before he had time to respond, and panic, another text came in.

 **[ SO many stairs ]**

Followed by―

 **[ Toooo mucj stuff** (ಥ_ಥ) **]**

Yuri turned around and looked down the stairs in question. There, only halfway up the steps and struggling to remain balanced, was Mai. In one hand she carried her violin case, which constantly knocked against her legs as it swung about unchecked. In her other arm was a white box, while in her hand was a phone that was about ready to slip and fall. And because of her puffy brown jacket she looked like an overworked marshmallow that was one step away from tripping.

He hurried down the steps, hands outstretched to take something from her. "Mai, why do you have all of this stuff?"

She awkwardly offered him the white box, which felt strangely warm in his hands.

"Yamada-sensei let me out early, but I couldn't risk dropping this off at my house because Aiya might be there," she answered a little breathlessly. "A-and I thought that I should bring something for this tour, and well, um…"

They slowly walked up the stairs and were greeted enthusiastically by Viktor.

"Hello! You were able to make it after all!"

Mai nodded meekly, already turning red. "I, uh, bought some donuts. T-thought you guys might want some…"

The box was immediately swiped out of Yuri's hands and Viktor opened it gleefully. He plucked one of the round pastries from the box and bit into it. His eyes lit up and he took another large bite with a loud, " _Vkusno!_ "

Yuri noticed Mai glancing at him and he just shook his head with a small smile. She eyed him a little and noted his apparel before nodding in understanding. Because he was trying to lose weight then he couldn't go snacking, even if it was just one donut. It wasn't too big of a loss, but having to watch Mai and Viktor eat them for him made him hungry to try one. And they did look really good.

"S-so where are we going?" Mai hesitantly asked after Viktor had eaten his second donut. The Russian turned thoughtful for a moment before looking over his shoulder and pointing at a building looming nearby.

"What's that?"

"Hasetsu Castle." Viktor's lips quirked as he looked back at them, having responded to his question at the same time. Mai grew redder and ducked her head to disappear into her scarf. Yuri took that as his cue to teach the Russian a history lesson. Or at the very least inform him about local rumors.

"Everyone calls that building Hasetsu Castle, but inside it's actually a ninja house." He put his hands together in the ninja sign and nodded his head seriously. Viktor's eyes grew wide and he leaned in close, pumping his arms ecstatically.

"Really?! Let's go there then!" He jumped between Yuri and Mai, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. The height difference between the Russian and his little friend was funny though, as Viktor was even taller than Yuri, who was taller than Mai. And that was exactly how they were dragged off to go see the great landmark.

 **{ ++ }**

Mai snorted to herself, almost rolling her eyes a little at the predictability of it all. It retrospect it hadn't taken all that long for the trio to wind up at the Ice Castle after paying a visit to the ninja home. She had wondered if they'd come here, if they hadn't already done so before, and in the end she hadn't been surprised. Now she stood outside of the rink, her instrument at her feet and Yuri and the Nishigori's around her. Viktor was already on the ice testing it out.

As Viktor began to experiment, Mai became lost, barely hearing the conversation that had picked up with her friends. The Russian prodigy glided lithely across the ice, his reflection bouncing along the uneven surface. Though there was no sound to guide his movements his body sang a heavenly chorus of notes. He raised one arm above his head and angled himself into a spin, silver hair waving in the air and catching the lights like sun on a spider's web.

She held her breath, sinking to her knees and bracing her hands on the ledge, the skin of her mouth touching cold, rough fabric. It felt just like the very first time she had seen him skate, and it was exhilaratingly terrifying because now―now he was here in person before her very eyes.

Viktor pulled away from the center and drifted closer to the wall. His shadow fell over her and she looked up with wide eyes to meet his curious stare. He tilted his head ever so slightly, taking in how she was sitting and observing everything before smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a little.

"Mai, would you like to play something for me to skate to? I noticed that you had your violin with you, so I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to hear you play."

Her heart stopped and a billion thoughts raced around in her mind. He had really meant it when he said he wanted to hear her play. Viktor wanted _her_ to play him a song. He wanted to skate to something she played. _She was going to play a song for_ _Viktor Nikiforov_.

It wasn't her true goal, but it sure was one heck of a stepping stone.

"S-sure!"

Without really looking away from Viktor, though he'd turned his back and skated towards the middle of the rink again, Mai fumbled with the locks on her violin case and pulled the instrument out, unwrapping her scarf from around her neck as she went. She stood up and fiddled with the tuning, lightly testing the sound every couple of seconds. Once finished, with the instrument tucked beneath her chin, she looked to Viktor ready on the ice.

"What would you like me to play?"

"Whatever you would like," he responded simply. Mai swallowed past the lump forming in her throat, feeling the familiar weight of pressure begin to settle on her shoulders. Whatever she wanted to play? But there was so much to choose from. She bit her lower lip. Did she dare to do it? Did she dare to play a song of her own creation just yet?

Before she could make up her mind then her arm began to move on it's own, rising to let the bow meet the strings.

A low hum filled the air, quickly growing louder. This piece of the song came from the first movement, detailing the start of her butterfly's journey through a glistening kingdom of blinding jewels of ice and frigid blankets of snow. It was the only part of her song that she found satisfying as it was the beginning of a life. Something so pure in being that not even the threat of such harshly beautiful surroundings could diminish that opening of hope.

The timbre wavered in the cavernous room, echoing and echoing until it returned to her. Mai closed her eyes as she recalled the story, forgetting herself a little.

WInter wasn't a season meant much for producing life, even near the end when the weather was most unpredictable. But one lone butterfly had emerged from its cocoon, fluttering fragile sapphire blue wings. A gentle breeze flowed through and picked the little creature up. It spread its wings and glided with that wind, soaring, soaring, soaring across the vast expanse of an endless white sea. There was freedom to be found wherever the eye would fall. And yet… without a sense of direction, what was the butterfly's purpose?

Mai opened her eyes.

Viktor twirled low upon the ice, rising and falling with the music. He moved backwards and looked above at the the ceiling lights, the look of the lost contorting his beautiful face. Even though he had never heard this song before― _no one_ had heard this song before―he had somehow managed to capture some of its essence and bend it to his will. And in the blink of an eye he and the music were one and the same. Seeing it happen before her and not in her dreams was so… _surreal_.

And it was frightening.

An impossible dream was coming true bit by little bit. After being told it was unachievable, after working so hard day in and day out, after doubting herself every waking moment―she was finally seeing results, and it terrified her. The man known as Viktor Nikiforov had only been a legend framed in pictures and viewed through the screens of tv's. He was set so far apart from her, a small girl with nothing truly going her way, and lived life on a high pedestal while she desperately climbed her way up a slippery slope.

Suzu Mai was nothing, while Viktor Nikiforov was everything.

Something landed on her shoulder. Mai's spine straightened and she blinked rapidly, realizing that everything had gone quiet. Her violin was at her side, barely hanging on to the tips of her fingers. She glanced down and saw that it was a hand that had touched her shoulder. Looking up revealed that it belonged to her best friend.

Yuri stared at her, the silent question in his eyes being formed into words by his mouth. "Mai, are you alright?"

She stared at him blankly, trying to piece the meaning of those words together. His hand slid off her shoulder and grabbed her own, catching the violin that fell with his feet, squeezing tightly. Mai realized then that she was trembling.

"S-sorry, I just realized that I need to go," she whispered, pulling away from him. Mai grabbed the violin and clumsily packed it up, simultaneously wrapping her scarf around her neck again.

When she stood up again she caught Viktor's eye, who had skated back to the railing in the meantime. He studied her carefully, not a hint of what he could possibly be thinking betrayed in his neutral expression. Mai forced herself to give him a weak smile before waving shyly and bowing her apologies.

As she turned to leave, Viktor suddenly said, "See you tomorrow!"

Mai glanced back with wide eyes. The Russian waved to her with a large grin on his face. For a brief second she wondered if he had understood what had happened. But as he continued to smile happily at her then some of the pressure seemed to ease off her shoulders. Slowly, Mai nodded her head, and he beamed at her.

Her face grew warm and finally began to walk away. Eventually a tiny, real smile broke out and she ducked her face into her scarf as she kept recalling what he had said.

 _See you tomorrow!_

* * *

 _((Redonix Note: Happy New Years!))_


	6. Enter Yurio

_((Redonix Note: Ha! Y'all gave up on me ever updating again, didn't ya? Lol, just kidding. I'm back! Message continued at the bottom.))_

* * *

The poster announcing the talent show, now only half a week away, practically glared at Mai as she avoided looking at it from her seat at the piano. The constant reminder of the torture she was to put herself through was like weights shackled to her every limb, bearing her down. It wasn't just the act of performing that made her feel ill, though. It was the sudden and new challenge that was added on that made her want to keel over.

 _Playing for Viktor was such a disaster last time. Knowing that he'll be there might only make things worse_ , she fretted. _But I want to invite him and Yuri so they can see me perform!_

And then there was the whole matter of just _how_ she would invite them.

 _Asking is such an easy concept in theory. Why can't it be easy to act upon as well?_

Just thinking about being direct, as she ought to be, made her cringe. Perhaps extending him an invitation through Yuri would be acceptable, but he might see it as rude. It wasn't like Viktor was an extra guest to invite on a whim simply because he was there. And forget drawing him aside to ask him. Each scenario that started out like that only seemed to have negative outcomes in her mind.

A frustrated sigh blew from parted lips and she scowled at the logo carefully crafted onto the piano.

Idly, Mai's fingers wandered over the ivory keys, feeling along the almost worn exterior as one would when pouring over passages of text or a map. The action was comforting, and before long she had absently begun to play a piece of her song that had been stuck in her head since she had played for Viktor.

It was the same thing all over again. The storm took control of a directionless butterfly, capturing it in an eternal despairing winter.

She tapped out the tune, growing faster and faster―as if that would change anything. As if that would make it better. No matter how many times she played the piece, though, she could never resolve her butterfly's problem. Instead of finding a way to shift the mood and ease into the second movement, the rising action in which the butterfly was meant to find itself the strength to persevere, Mai was only capable of destroying it until nothing remained.

 _ **(Time is slowing while twisting and turning…)**_

The refrain looped on itself, beginning again.

 _ **(And this hope is struggling to find a way…)**_

Mai thought about the meaning of a song. In most cases she knew it to be something meant as an expression; a message.

 _ **(The lines are blurring as I look away…)**_

 _ **(Is it still possible to reach what's far before me?)**_

The message could be about anything, for anything. It could be from one person to another about hate, love, friendship―or it could be something dedicated to many people at once as a reminder that they weren't alone. In most cases, though, it was often an expression of the song writer's own feelings for them and them alone. The butterfly was Mai, and the trials were her own, that much she thought she understood.

So what _were_ her feelings?

 _ **(Am I wishing for something?)**_

 _ **(I can't remember…)**_

What did she want?

 _ **(There's a strange emptiness when forgetting…)**_

 _ **(Is there a way to make it end?)**_

Mai's fingers faltered, nearly slipping off the keys as she realized it: She didn't really know anymore. The dream, her ultimate goal, she had been so close to realizing it. Viktor had asked her to play for him, and she'd choked. Even thinking about it now allowed that familiar dread to well up within her chest like a broken fountain of water, constantly spouting and streaming her fears over her heart to suffocate it.

Maybe her aunt had been right. Maybe this one thing―out of all the things she'd allowed herself strive for with hope―this one desire, was just too far to get. It was just like herself too, always being brainless and hoping for the impossible. Hoping that an underdog like herself would be able rise up like in the stories and claim the victory that was rightfully hers. But she was nothing more than a coward that did as she was told. Always practicing, always performing, but never good enough to be the best.

 _ **(I think I'm distorting…)**_

Everything she had aspired to be was nothing that would become of her, for everything she did was never good enough in the eyes of her aunt. And of all the people whose expectations she was dying to reach, was Aiya's.

 _ **(I must be distorted…)**_

 _ **(Will it come to an end?)**_

It was like invisible threads were wrapping around her throat, forcing her to remain trapped with the rising water until she drowned.

 _ **(Can you hear the silent cry)**_

 _ **(The cry that brings a tear to my eye?)**_

 _ **(Can you hear the heart speak?)**_

 _ **(I'm just trying to get by…)**_

Mai slowed to a halt and blankly stared at her unmoving fingers on the piano. What exactly was the point of her song again? Did she really want Viktor, or even the whole world, to listen to something so pathetic? Did she really want everyone to know what was in her little heart? To know that, in the end, she was just another failure…

She wasn't a natural, or even close to gifted. Relentlessly working was probably all she'd ever be known for. Day in. Day out. Practicing for a day that would never come, to reach a bar that was too high―the girl known as Suzu Mai would always be known as the one that couldn't jump high enough. Just like…

Just like…

She tried to think of someone that she knew and admired that had failed, but not one person came to mind. Her parents, though death claimed them too quickly, had been on their way to fame. They had started their own photography studio and were a favorite among tourists, and even had their works published in a few different magazines. They'd been married and had her. When asked they would have said they'd achieved everything they've ever wanted and more.

Aunt Aiya had been a fierce competitor in her youth. At home, on a shelf in the living room, there were several trophies and ribbons to show for her skill. Before the accident that had placed Mai in her care, she had been a private music teacher at the university. Even if her methods were grueling, Aiya had been praised as the best.

Then there was Yuri.

He had dedicated his life to the ice since a young age. Though he would say otherwise, Mai would swear up and down that he had the greatest success of all. Yuri had worked, and worked, and worked to make his skill known. Hours upon hours, when her aunt wasn't expecting her to be practicing, had been spent watching him skate until he perfected a certain jump, or the speed of a spin. Years were spent learning in far off places and competing in the biggest ice skating competition known to man: The Grand Prix. And even when he had found himself at the bottom of the ladder he had found it in himself to stand up again and _keep skating_.

Turning in her seat, with one hand still resting at the edge of the piano, Mai stared at the poster once again. Every time she looked at it the same subtext always underlined the announcement: _Fear this_. _Fear me._ For invisible words they had always been so big and bold, and she had somehow always been convinced to listen to them. And as challenge after challenge seemed to pile on top of her the words would laugh, mocking her.

But… What if she were to challenge those words back? Mai may have been a far cry off from being brave, but if Yuri could do it then couldn't she as well? His success was defined by his ability to stand back up after falling down, and at first it had seem like he'd fallen a long way before he'd hit rock bottom. If Mai were to stand up as well would she be able to finally understand the meaning of success? Could she know what it was like to stand on even ground with her best friend?

Something Yuri had said rose to the surface of her thoughts, fiercely clinging to a spark of hope that had ignited within her.

" _Being depressed just gets old after awhile. I realized that even if I think I don't belong on the ice, it's the only place where I really, truly belong._ "

Even if she thought her music would never be good enough, it was the only thing that she really, truly enjoyed creating.

Mai stood up. The poster leered at her from its lofty position on the bulletin board, and she swallowed hard. It was just a couple steps. That's all she needed to take. A couple steps until she was in front of the board and then she could take the poster down, and then instead of asking Viktor with words, she could give that to him instead. Easy.

Hesitantly, she slid a foot around the bench and took a step forward. Then another, and another, until she was in front of the poster. She read over it, absorbing its contents; the event's name, the time and date, the cheesy showtime background. Slowly she raised her hand up and touched the edge of the poster.

And, without batting an eye, Mai wrapped her fingers around the edge and pulled it down.

 **{ ++ }**

To say that he was mad was an understatement.

To be exact, Yuri Plisetsky was _pissed._

His flight from Russia to Japan had been a long, exhausting one, and he'd wandered around Hasetsu until it was almost dusk looking for the runaway Russian. Then he'd come to find an annoyingly large group of reporters crowding the entrance to a shabby, public ice rink waiting to get the next big scoop on what was happening with Viktor Nikiforov and Yuri Katsuki. Not only had Viktor sluffed out on his promise to create a special program for his senior debut, but he had done it to train this sorry excuse for a skater. Surely that was reason enough for anyone to be angry.

Yuri glowered at Katsuki from beneath his bangs, digging the heel of his foot into the man's forehead without remorse.

"This is all your fault! Apologize!"

Katsuki stared at him from beneath his shoe in bewilderment, waving his hands in a placating manner. He was practically squealing as he apologized, but it wasn't enough. Yuri dug his heel in even harder and ground his teeth together.

" _Pig_ ," he spat.

"I-I'm sor― _Ow!_ " Katsuki whimpered as he twisted his heel.

Yuri opened his mouth to say something else―he wasn't sure what really, probably another insult―when something crashed into his back and knocked him off balance. He gasped and stumbled over Katsuki, narrowly avoiding stepping, or worse, falling, on top of the man. Latching onto the ledge of the counter, Yuri managed to stop his downfall. Beneath him, Katsuki's feet disappeared as the man scuttled away.

Slowly, Yuri looked over his shoulder.

A girl no larger than himself was bent over Katsuki, helping him to his feet. She pushed a lock of wavy black hair behind a small ear before looking up to meet his gaze with honey-brown eyes. She flinched, biting her lip and averting her gaze. Beside her Katsuki rubbed his forehead.

"Thanks, Mai," he murmured.

 _Siblings?_ he wondered. They looked similar enough, he supposed. Both of them were on the heavier side―although Katsuki had apparently lost weight―and had round eyes with button like noses. And they acted fairly familiar with each other, like family often did. It was a mildly intriguing mystery, but Yuri shoved his curiosity aside and focused on the matter at hand.

In the end though she'd gotten in his way.

" _Hah_? What's this? Need a girl to come and save you, Katsuki?" Yuri carelessly tossed the jibe at the pig, effortlessly turning himself around to lean against the counter, all the while pretending he hadn't just been _owned_ by said girl.

Katsuki started to say something when the girl spoke up. "Y-you shouldn't be bullying people j-just because you're angry," she stuttered. "A-and if you have a p-problem then you s-should talk to Viktor, s-s-since you're here to see him, right?"

He opened his mouth and then closed it right back up again. She was right in every aspect and there wasn't a damn thing he could say to combat it. Yes, he _had_ been bullying Katsuki because he was angry (and maybe a little because the pig was just so weak), and he had come here to talk to (read: convince, forcefully if necessary, Viktor to return to Russia) Viktor. But it's not like that was any of her business anyways.

Yuri pushed himself off the counter and took a big step forward, eyeing the girl. "That's beside the point. Who are _you_? Why do you get to come in here when everyone else is stuck outside? Are you some other skater Viktor decided to coach? Did he promise to choreograph something for you too?"

With each question the girl shrunk in on herself. She fidgeted with the hem of her jacket, pulling it up until it partially hid her ears. Her arms crossed over her chest and Yuri could have sworn he heard paper crinkling.

"N-no―I mean, um, I'm not a s-skater." He clenched his jaw to keep himself from verbally lashing her as he struggled miserably to remain patient with her. She stuttered and stumbled over her words so much that it was a miracle she remained understandable, let alone unthrottled by someone else for taking forever to get to the point. What was her problem anyways? Those were simple questions, he'd thought.

After another hopeless minute spent listening to her trip over words she finally managed to spit the rest of it out. "M-my name is Suzu Mai a-and I'm a musician, a-and a friend of Yuri's."

Yuri blinked, and a grin pricked at the corner of his mouth. Did she seriously not know she was in the presence of _two_ Yuri's?

"I don't recall having a turtle for a friend," he said, jutting his chin towards her as he pointed out her little habit. Thin eyebrows bunched together as she stared, not even a single dot connecting in what was beginning to look a lot like a simple mind.

"Mai, this is Yuri Plisetsky." Katsuki had to lean down as he whispered in the girl's ear and Yuri smirked. He leaned back and waited for the usual reaction that followed when people heard his name; automatic praise and awe, the desire to shake his hand (which he would never accept), and requests for pictures and autographs. At the very least he wanted to enjoy her surprise when she realized her own mistake.

"Wha― Y-you're a Yuri too?! I-I mean, um, my apologies." Suzu Mai's face flushed bright red and she bowed repeatedly―something he never understood how the Japanese considered "polite". Didn't that hurt their backs at all, greeting people with a bow, thanking with a bow, _apologizing_ with a bow? It just didn't make any sense to him. He scowled before turning to look at nothing in particular on the wall.

"Whatever," he grumbled. "Where's Viktor?"

Both Katsuki and Mai simultaneously pointed towards another set of doors that must have led to the ice rink itself. They looked at each other, Mai's face turning even redder as she quickly hid her hands behind her back, only to change her mind and protectively clutch them together on her chest. Katsuki grinned and chuckled, lightly patting her on the head before turning to walk confidently away. "He's in here."

He watched as Mai scampered to catch up with the man, noting how the moment she neared his back she had reached out for his arm and clung to it like a scared little toddler. The girl glanced back at him to see if he was following. When she caught him staring instead she quickly turned and ducked her head.

 _What a chicken_ , he thought, stomping after the disappearing duo. _They make a perfect match though. A piggy and a chicken, ha, what a joke._

Yuri pushed through the glass doors and froze.

Though the room was absolutely silent, save for the sound of skates gliding across the ice, he could've sworn he heard music playing. Viktor spun, swiftly raising his arms in the air one after the other. His hips twisted and turned with each swaying movement he made. Silver hair fell over his face as many times as the air blew it back―he looked like a god with the solemn way he stared at the empty space.

"Those moves," he said quietly. Katsuki and Mai whipped around as he stalked forward to lean against the divider. "They're for the short program Viktor was practicing for next season."

Everyone turned to continue watching the Russian prodigy. "He was already putting a routine together for the next season, but he couldn't decide which song to go with. Shocking the audience has always been his number one priority, and it's placed the world in his hands. But no matter what he does no one's surprised anymore. He knows that just as well as he knows that without any inspiration, he's as good as done for."

His shoulders tightened as he leaned back a little, frowning as he lost himself to his own thoughts.

"If he's going to take next season off then I wonder if he'll let me use his program. I _know_ I can surprise people more. But I'm going to need his help for my senior debut and to win the Grand Prix."

He barely heard Katsuki's mumbling as he leaned back and took a deep breath. He braced himself against the divider, nearly tossing himself over it as he yelled, " _Oi!_ You seem to be doing _great_ , Viktor!"

The silver haired man turned around, hardly seeming all that surprised―as if he'd been _expecting_ Yuri to show up. Yuri clenched his teeth, his grip tightening on the divider.

"Oh, Yuri, I didn't think Yakov would have let you come. Did you need something?" Viktor chuckled to himself before catching sight of the other two. Delightedly, he raised up his hand and waved vigorously. "Mai~! Perfect timing. There was something I wanted to talk to you about."

Yuri curled his lip and turned his glare onto the extra that had stolen Viktor's attention _just_ as he'd been about to answer. Mai swallowed hard, her face growing ever closer in resemblance to a lobster. She glanced away from Viktor, unable to hold his gaze or say anything, but as she turned she made eye contact with him, letting loose an audible squeak. Yuri clicked his tongue before redirecting his attention to the man that seemed to be causing so many problems lately.

"Oi, stop getting distracted!" he hissed. "You forgot about the promise you made to me, didn't you?"

Viktor's smile dropped a little and he tilted his head as he thought about it.

" _About how you would choreograph a program for my senior debut_ ," he prompted slowly, barely opening his mouth to get his words out.

The man's face lit up suddenly, and a tiny gasp escaped him as if to say ' _Aha!_ ' Viktor skated out of the rink, apologizing plenty without really sounding like he was sorry. Yuri gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he struggled to control his temper. Oh he was aware that Viktor was the forgetful type―painfully at that―but there wasn't really an excuse the man could come up with that would pardon him in Yuri's book. After all, something as important as a senior debut should have been easy to remember.

"You made a promise," he growled. "You're going to choreograph my new program! Let's go back to Russia!"

He threw his hand out, purposefully posing it so that it looked as if he were going to push Katsuki back, only just barely stopping short of touching the other man. A small gasp echoed behind him but he didn't dare to look back at the girl who'd made the sound. This was a message to her as well. No one was going to keep him from getting Viktor to make good on his promise, and that included a little nobody chicken like her.

Viktor observed him with unreadable eyes. For a moment he remained quiet, thoughtful even, and Yuri grew uneasy. What was he thinking? What game was he going to try and play now? If he knew Viktor even a little, then the Russian prodigy _always_ found a way to turn a situation into a game that was in his favor. And if it was a game they were going to play, Yuri had absolutely no idea if he'd be able to win.

"Okay, I've decided!" Yuri internally slapped himself for getting distracted and he focused on Viktor once again. "Tomorrow I will choreograph programs for both of you the same music I was going to use."

Yuri and Katsuki turned to each other at the same moment. "The same music as _him_?!"

The Russian threw his head back and laughed. "No, no, no. This music has several different arrangements, and I was thinking I'd use a different program for each of you, which actually brings me to what I wanted to talk to Mai about about."

"Huh?" The girl froze on the spot, one hand tightly clutching the sleeve of Katsuki's coat, while the other pressed tightly into her chest. Again, Yuri thought he heard the sound paper crunching. He glowered at her as Viktor reached forward and grabbed her arm, dragging her off to the side a few paces away to discuss whatever idea he'd had. The man smiled easily at the flustered girl and he waved his hands about animatedly as he described something in great detail. She ducked her head repeatedly, often wringing the life out of her chubby little hands. Finally, Mai seemed to agree to whatever Viktor had proposed and the eccentric man clapped his hands.

As Viktor turned to go Mai reached out and hesitantly touched his shoulder. She flinched when he looked back at her, and for a second it looked like she'd forgotten how to breathe, but she quickly demolished that idea with a deep breath. Mai reached inside her coat and pulled out an awkwardly folded piece of paper―he _knew_ he hadn't been imagining things!―and handed it to the prodigy. Viktor carefully unfolded it until he holding a medium sized poster. While he looked over it Mai rapidly explained what it was, hesitating for a split second before asking a question. Viktor's response was immediate, and he pounced on the poor girl who was rapidly disappearing inside of her coat.

" _Tch_ ," Yuri clicked his tongue. Of course she had to be a fan of Viktor's, it seemed like almost every female was. And to make matters worse it appeared that she was purposefully trying to do whatever it took to keep the Russian prodigy from returning home, _where he belonged_.

He was jerked from his thoughts when an elbow nudged him in the side. Looking away from the sickening scene in front of him, Yuri was stunned to be presented with an unusual expression upon Katsuki's face. The Japanese man frowned, his thick brows a step away from being tightly pinched together, a stone-cold chill filling his hickory eyes. It sent a shudder running laps down Yuri's spine, and he almost took a step back.

"You can be mean to me all you'd like," Katsuki's voice was low enough so that he would be the only one to hear, "but don't you dare be mean to Mai because Viktor chooses to humor her. You may not realize it, but it took a lot of courage out of her just to ask something of him. Whatever she's doing, she's doing it because of her dream. And for Mai, her dream means everything."

Yuri swallowed past a lump in his throat, his heart thudding in his chest.

 _Who is_ this _guy?_

The Yuri Katsuki he thought he knew was a far cry from being someone scary, but this guy― _this guy_ was absolutely _terrifying._ Whatever Yuri might have held against the girl known as Suzu Mai immediately vanished. Of course, he had nothing to worry about concerning her. She was just another fan that Viktor was humoring―he did that all the time. And it wasn't like Viktor actually found an interest in any of them. It was ridiculous to have assumed she was trying to keep Viktor to herself. Completely unreasonable.

Yuri turned away from Katsuki just as Viktor began walking back with Mai, the poster at his side. If he strained his eyes then he could just barely make out the first word: _Talent_.

"Now that that's settled let's move on," Viktor smiled. "In two weeks I'll reveal the programs. You guys will compete to see who can surprise the audience the most!"

Katsuki stepped forward. "Um, if we're competing against each other," he awkwardly gestured between the two of them, shocking Yuri once again at how quickly he'd changed, "then what is Mai doing?"

Viktor glanced at Mai, his smile widening. "She'll be providing a live accompaniment to the music. Oh, of course, as a thank you we'll all be going to see her performance on Wednesday to cheer her on!"

At the mention of it Viktor held up a poster announcing some talent show. Any color that had been on Mai's face immediately drained and for a moment it looked like she were ready to collapse. Either she hadn't been expecting Viktor to make such a declaration or else she had been doing everything within her power to spend as little time thinking about the performance. Whatever the case, Yuri finally began to somewhat grasp what Katsuki had meant when he'd said it'd taken her a lot of courage to ask anything of Viktor. Having him, a legendary icon, view a performance was like prematurely readying oneself for the noose.

"Alright." Yuri bowed his head and accepted the decision as reality. But he wasn't going to give in without earning something in the process. He stomped and pointed at Viktor, making everyone jump slightly. "I accept the terms and conditions, but you'll do whatever the winner says in return, got it?"

"Great! I love this kind of thing! So exciting!" Viktor pumped his fists, the dumbest look―he really did resemble an over-excited dog sometimes―overtaking his features. Yuri rolled his eyes on the surface, but underneath it all even he was getting worked up at the thought of it. He was going to get his chance to show his worth, _and_ to prove he was better than Katsuki. He was going to _win_.

"Hold it right there!"

A set of high pitched voices resounded from behind Viktor and Mai. If he'd thought the girl was a bit flighty before, nothing compared to her reaction in that moment. She jumped, choking on a half scream, and whirled around to see a set of triplets. Mai clutched her chest and doubled over, panting and hiccuping. Yuri couldn't help but frown at her, ignoring what the kids had to say as everyone else ignored the wheezing girl.

How exactly was it that this girl got anything done if she was constantly being scared by everything? If anything she was worse than the pig. And yet, even with this conclusion, he couldn't find it in himself to hate her anymore; rather, he began to worry. Life wasn't a cakewalk, and if she wasn't careful then it'd swallow her whole. As someone who was undoubtedly younger than himself Yuri knew he had to step up and act as a responsible adult. He didn't have experience in being a brother figure, having grown up an only child, but if there ever was an opportunity it was now.

 _It'll be like when I helped grandpa raise chickens,_ he thought, _I just need to be… nicer._

He'd have to start with apologizing for his behavior, though. And if there's one thing he knew, apologies from himself were hard to come by.

 _On second thought,_ Yuri grimaced and turned away from the girl, _this is going to be harder than raising chickens._

 **{ ++ }**

Mai stroked the edge of her violin, her mind unusually blank and devoid of the alarm she would normally be feeling around this time. Music sheets were scattered around her on the bed, but she wasn't certain which she would go for. Though Viktor had said that he had no idea which arrangements he would use, he'd very clearly pointed out to her the ones he intended for both her Yuri and his Yuri to skate to.

The talent show was in half a week's time, and Viktor Nikiforov, along with both her best friend and the Russian Yuri, would be coming to watch her performance. She had succeeded in putting herself out there―and somehow managed to receive an additional task―so now all she had to do was practice and wait.

The Ice Castle Showdown was in two weeks time, and not only would she be performing in front of another audience so soon, but this would be broadcasted on television. The reality of it was still having a hard time sinking in, but she was certain that once it did then the panic would consume everything. Not only would her face be known, especially if she failed, but it would be the first performance her aunt had not approved of. Never before had she gone against Aiya's decisions, or even behind her back; it was always Aiya's choice in song, Aiya's choice in where to perform, and Aiya's choice in how long she practiced. Not once had Mai known what it was like to have a voice.

She looked around at the music sheets again, indecision plaguing her mind. If Aiya were in here right now Mai knew she would hound her to practice the piece for the talent show: Vivaldi's Sinfonia in C Major. Mai had practiced in Vivaldi's music relentlessly―he was by far her most favorite composer―and she knew the designated arrangement by heart.

The talent show was in half a week's time.

But the Ice Castle Showdown was only in two, and she didn't know the arrangements for this performance at all in comparison to Sinfonia.

Hesitantly, Mai picked up Vivaldi's Sinfonia and stuck it under her bed. If she felt she was lacking then she would practice it another time, perhaps just before the performance. Her next obstacle was in deciding which of the two pieces Viktor had assigned her she would begin practicing first. She picked them both up and flipped through them. They were both the same song in a sense, with only slight changes to each in notes, but one was faster than the other, and according to Viktor they each had their own meaning. One was about mature love while the other was about innocent love.

Mai was no expert when it came to love, but through music she could experience and understand. She set aside one of the music sheets and placed the other on her stand after picking up her violin. The bow, firmly in her grasp, rested just above the strings, and after a deep breath, Mai slowly drew out the first note of adoration.

 _In Regards to Love: Agape_

* * *

 _((Note cont.:_ _Aw man, it's been since last year when I last updated, yikes. Haha, sorry about that. Once YOI ended I found myself going back in sports anime time and getting sucked into Haikyuu! hell XD Which is weird because didn't everyone wind up in the Killing Stalking fandom? Idk, that just wasn't my cup of tea.  
_

 _Anyways, I've actually got some pretty exciting news. A while back I'd actually taken an excerpt from this story―Mai's rendition of Vivaldi's Winter from ch.2―and submitted it to my school's literary magazine, and just recently I found out that it's been accepted and going to be published! I'm so stoked about that!_

 _Also, forgive me if anyone sounds stiff or OOC in this chapter, it's been awhile. And I know that 2 weeks doesn't really sound all that long for someone to learn/memorize two songs, but just keep in mind that Mai is actually a lot better than she gives herself credit for. Hope to see you next chapter!))_


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